Band Buddies
by Trust Gavroche
Summary: Modern AU. Courfeyrac, Jehan, and the other Amis navigate through their sixth grade band year together. Troubles, little Amis, awesomeness, and hilarity ensue.
1. First Day of School

**A/N: This is going to be my first real story (with a plot and everything, yay). It will mostly be about Les Amis' adventures in band class, but also middle school. Narration will switch between Courfeyrac and Jehan, who are not going to be together here (C'mon, they're sixth graders!) but are best friends. The next chapter will focus on he actual band period, but I won't give too many spoilers. I'm writing this because 1) I want to become a better writer, 2) I love Courf/Jehan stuff, 3) I've always wanted to write a band fanfic, and 4) I'm working on longer chapters. Suggestions, corrections, and the like are welcomed with opened arms. I'd also like to note that the cover photo is not mine: it belongs to .christoph.G. the Flickr user, and I'm not making any profit from it. Anyways, please enjoy this, and review it if you have time. This will probably be the longest author's note, don't fret. Thanks!**

**-Gav**

* * *

"I can't wait, Courf! It's gonna be so much fun!" Eleven-year old Jean "Jehan" Prouvaire bounced alongside his best friend, his dirty blonde braid skipping behind him like a little kite. He was referencing their sixth-grade year, which the friends had just entered and were beyond excited for. Well, mostly.

"Yeah, it'll be great," Courfeyrac grumbled sarcastically. "Since when is school classified as 'fun?'" _And since when does it start on August 12th?_

The curly-black haired student had been Jehan's best friend since kindergarten. The two had met when Jehan was being laughed at for sticking a pretty dandelion in his hair. Courfeyrac, the outspoken little tyke, had pranced up to the quietly crying Jehan, put his arm around him, and asked if he could play.

"Well, it's not, technically," Jehan's voice interrupted Courfeyrac's reminiscing. "But this year we get to do band! Band! With shiny instruments and pretty music."  
Courfeyrac nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess that period will be fun. Shineys galore and music." Courfeyrac had always been a music fan, but he wasn't sure about this band thing. What if it was too much work? He probably already had seven periods of homework to worry about. He'd been told multiple times that sixth grade wasn't a walk in the park.

"Is something the matter, Courf? You seem...lost." Jehan's voice once again interrupted his curly-haired friend's thoughts.

"Not at all, flower boy," Courfeyrac answered and grinned, using one of his favorite nicknames for his companion. He was rewarded with a playful shove in the ribs.

The two friends were walking to their new school, Victor Hugo Middle School. Trees were loosely scattered on one sides of the sidewalk, with their majestic branches making a half-canopy over the concrete pathway. The leaves were at the brightest, celebrating the last warm days of summer and waving in the morning breeze. Jehan's backpack was a forest green color, and Courfeyrac's was your typical black Jansport. As the two rounded the corner, they were met with an intimidating brick building. It loomed in front of them, and they stopped for a second to take nervous gulps. So this was where they'd be spending most of the next three years? Courfeyrac shot a brave smile at Jehan and they both stepped onto the campus of their new school.

"Hey, guys! Over here!" Any nervous thoughts evaporated from Courfeyrac's head as he spotted an energetic redhead waving from underneath a tree.

"Feuilly!" Jehan's solemn face broke into a grin and he dodged random loitering students to meet his friend, with Courfeyrac in tow. "How was summer?"

"Pretty good. Joly freaked when he saw my hands," Feuilly laughed, and his brown eyes sparkled. Courfeyrac knew that Feuilly's family was tight on funds, and Feuilly had to go spend the summer working for his grandfather, a fan maker, for the majority of the summer days, which resulted in cracked and dry fingers. Feuilly liked the work though. "How was your guys' summer?"

"Great!" Courfeyrac piped up. "You should have been there for the pool party," he added, a mischievous grin on his face as he remembered what had happened.

Feuilly chuckled. "Ah well, maybe next year!"

Jehan nodded. "Absolutely!"

"So, what schedules did you guys get?" Courfeyrac asked, pulling his own out of his side backpack pocket to compare. Feuilly fumbled in his worn camoflauge lunchbox pocket for his, and Jehan swiftly pulled it out of his pocket.

"Fantine for history first, then Javert for math, Valjean for band, Euphrasie for science, Lever for language arts, Thompson for P.E., and then Matthias for computers last period," Courfeyrac read off his schedule.

"What type of name is Lever?" snorted Jehan. Courfeyrac giggled too, and moved over to read the poet's schedule.

"Sweet! We have math and band together!" The curly-haired student exclaimed happily.

"Oh joy, two periods in a row with Courfeyrac? How am I going to live?" Jehan pressed a dramatic hand to his forehead with the joking grin that Courfeyrac (who rolled his eyes and grinned) usually wore.

Feuilly moved next to Jehan. "Looks like we have P.E. together!" The two boys high fived. "Hmm, do I got anything with Courf?" The redhead sidled over to Courfeyrac and scanned his schedule. "Darn it, I don't," he noted, frowning.

"Cheer up, bustah," Courfeyrac smiled down at his friend. "We both have A lunch, right?" Feuilly nodded. "So we can meet up then! And times like now, before the bell!"

A harsh bell tone interrupted their chatter. "Speak of the devil," grumbled Courfeyrac. With a quick fist bump, each of the friends departed to their first periods.

Courfeyrac quickly checked his schedule again and pointed himself towards Building 6, the sixth-grade one. He managed to navigate the mob of chattering students, and up to room 2-204. He glanced around at the half-full classroom and took a seat in the second-to-last row. He kicked his backpack under his desk, which smelled of lemon antibacterial wipes. The students filed in in little groups and eventually every desk was occupied and the bell had rung once more.

Ms. Fantine, a somewhat vertically-challenged woman, stood up from a swivel chair behind a huge oaken desk that had been placed near the front of the room. It was no wonder Courfeyrac hadn't noticed her at first, hidden behind the desk and as small as she was. He observed their educator with a calculating eye.

"Hello, class," she began. "Welcome to the sixth grade! Middle school, yippee! For this first week or so, we'll be talking about school procedures and whatnot." Here some students groaned softly. "Boring, I know, but the state requires us to go over them. Please take out your planners and copy down the homework on the board. I'll know you're done when your planners are put away." Sounds of paper whipping filled the air, and the fresh scent of sawdust blew everywhere as sharp, brand spanking new pencils came out.

As everyone finished jotting down their homework (which mainly involved "Have parents sign release form" and that type of stuff), they turned their attention back to Ms. Fantine._ Well, I guess she's nice enough so far,_ Courfeyrac thought. She was pretty, too, with long and lush chocolate-colored locks cascading down her back. She seemed quite thin, and was wearing a modest ruby-colored dress with a flowing skirt and 3/4 length sleeves.

The rest of the period passed quickly, as she rambled on about how she would be taking no excessive nonsense, and how "this class is gifted and so we'll move on faster than most of the other classes, which means more homework and more fun."

One down, six to go! he thought triumphantly as he shrugged his backpack over his shoulders and exited the classroom. Math definitely wasn't one of his favorite subjects, but Courfeyrac was pretty adept at it. "Dr. Javert," as he preferred to be called, was definitely going to be a handful. He had a very strict no-nonsense policy, much to the dismay of Jehan and Courfeyrac, who had entertained themselves in math last year by designing paper airplanes and then testing them out when the teacher wasn't looking.

Marius Pontmercy, a freckled boy with warm hazel eyes and another close friend of Courfeyrac's, was also in math with him. The two exchanged evil grins as they chose seats across from each other. Jehan, of course, waved apologetically at his friends and then picked the seat closest to the window.

After a good half-hour of lecturing on curriculum and procedures, the bell rang loudly again and sent them on their way to third period. Also known as band.

Courfeyrac walked besides his poetic friend as they journeyed to The Band Room. They chatted about their experiences with middle school so far, and all too soon neared the band room. Courfeyrac held the over-sized door open for Jehan, who flushed profusely at his friend's gentlemanly antics, and then followed him in.  
_Woah, bro, this room is huge!_ Courfeyrac thought. The room was indeed cavernous. It had lots of little doors labeled "Ensemble" and "Practice" lining the walls, and there was a sizeable locker room in the far corner. Black chairs were arranged in a messy semi-circle around a little platform-podium thing, and Courfeyrac pulled ahead and plopped down in one. He was quickly followed by a beaming Jehan.

The bell trilled again and a tall, brown haired man stepped up to the podium thingy and waved at the fidgeting students.

"Hey, guys!"


	2. Band

Jehan raised an eyebrow. Their new band director certainly seemed cheery. He nonchalantly crossed his legs and surveyed the man. He knew that most of the happy-go-lucky teachers didn't last much longer than a month, when the kids decided they were too old for it.

All of a sudden, the name popped into his head- Valjean! Yes, Mr. Valjean the Band Director. "Mr. Valjean" was wearing new blue jeans and a black collar shirt. A gray watch adorned his wrist, and he had short, dense, wavy black hair that gave the slight feeling that it had been electrocuted or something. The man seemed to be in his early thirties, but with the facial lines and expressions of someone who's been through a lot and had years of experience.

The band director coughed. "Excuse my, er, lack of formality. Good morning, students! Welcome to Victor Hugo Middle School. I won't bore you with school procedures and whatnot, we'll leave that to your actual academic teachers." He picked up a long, slender stick and waved it about casually. "Let's see..." Mr. Valjean glanced down at a Post-It note, "this year we will be learning how to play a selected instrument with the correct embousure, posture, and breathing. We'll also learn to identify different notes, how to read a sheet of music, and maybe sight reading." He finished and looked back up at the students. "Now, I know you all may not know each other yet. This is a small class, with what, twelve students? Whatever the case, icebreakers are still in order. Please stand up, have a look around you, then pair up with someone about the same height as you."

Jehan tore his gaze from the teacher and looked around. _Wait a minute,_ he thought, _how did I get put in a class with all my friends?_ It was true- there were only a few students, scattered throughout the vast classroom, and he knew them all.

His partner in crime, Courfeyrac, was right next to him, and Feuilly was a few seats away from him, fiddling with a keychain of some sort.

His friends Combeferre and Enjolras were sitting in the second row, both finishing up notes on what Valjean had just said. Of course.

Marius had apparently followed him and Courfeyrac from math (Marius had prooved himself adept at ninja-stalker things like that), and was seated in the back row. A few seats separated him from a very pretty blonde girl. Her frame was slight, almost like that of a lark's, and she had soft blue eyes. From the way Marius was fidgiting, he obviously liked the girl.

Éponine, a tough girl whom Jehan was loosely acquainted with, was sitting a few seats over from Feuilly.

Bahorel, a rough boy who was often described by Jehan as being like "a toasted marshmallow," was sitting right next to Grantaire, who had a tough family life and was wearing a rather tattered forest green hoodie and was absentmindedly sketching something in a notbook. Neither appeared to really register what Valjean had been saying.

Joly, the beloved hypochondriac of the group, was sitting behind Bossuet. Bossuet had the worst luck of them all, which was probably why his best friend (Joly) was sitting right behind him, ready to help if the chair collapsed or something.

Finally, Musichetta was sitting a little to the left of Bossuet. She was twisting a silver ring around her fingers and appeared to be doing nothing, but Jehan knew that she had been listening intently. Musichetta was a cook at heart, but she had seemed to be the only one, besides himself, who was really excited for band class.

Valjean tapped his slender stick thing on a music stand in front of him, and everyone put their stuff away and stood up. Marius and the blonde were, surprisingly, the same height, and they paired up immediately with awkward blushes and downcast glances. Jehan walked over to Feuilly and high-fived him. "Partners?"

Feuilly laughed and nodded. "Pard'ners in'eed, buster."

Courfeyrac had marched up to Grantaire. "C'mon, R," he grinned and grabbed Grantaire's arm and pulled him upright, sending the notepad crashing to the floor. Courfeyrac and Grantaire were only about an inch apart, height-wise, and were known by last year's teachers as "the terrible twosome."

In a few moments, Bahorel and Eponine had paired up, and so had Combeferre and Enjolras, both tall and lanky. Musichetta was standing with Joly, as they were both rather small, and as was typical for the poor fellow, Bossuet was left with no one.

"Make a group of three, then," ordered Valjean cheerfully, and Bossuet hurried to stand with Joly and Musichetta, even though he was a few inches taller than both.

"Alrighty then! I take it some of you are familiar with each other?" Valjean spoke again. His voice was deep, but it had a light note to it, which Jehan found very poetic. There were murmurs of "yes," and so Valjean tapped his stick on the music stand again. "Okey doke. Please turn to your partner, or partners, and interview them. Ask about their summer, favorite class, favorite color, family, anything! You have five minutes."

Jehan turned to Feuilly. They'd both been to numerous sleepovers involving each other, and the group had been friends for a long time. Which resulting in everyone knowing everything about each other. He smiled awkwardly at his friend. "Sooo, Feuilly, what's your favorite color?"

"Green," the redhead answered immediately. "What's yours?"

"Hmm." Jehan racked his brains for a moment. He liked to many different colors, it was hard to pick just one! "Uh...heavily shaded rainbow?"

Feuilly laughed, and Jehan grinned. Every time he was asked what his favorite color was, he picked some new way to say "all of them."

Their pointless question-and-answer session went on for a while, until finally Valjean stopped them with a booming voice. "Stop, times up! Please return to your seats." He waited while the students got seated again. "I would normally make you talk with everyone here, but from what I overheard, you guys are very familiar with one another." He raised an eye and glanced at Courfeyrac and Grantaire, who exchanged a glance and then burst out in silent laughter.  
Valjean went on to show them (shiny) examples of each instrument. First, he stepped off the platform and went behind a desk. Faint clinking sounds could be heard, and he made his way back up to the podium and held up a long, silver instrument. "Does anyone know what this is?"

Jehan grinned and raised his hand. The instrument in question had long been his favorite. It made such pretty notes!

"Yes, young man in the navy polo shirt?" Valjean smiled at Jehan, who glanced down to make sure he was wearing a navy blue polo shirt.

"A flute?" Jehan's voice called out tentatively.

"Correct!" Mr. Valjean grinned. "It is indeed a flute, member of the woodwind family even though it is shiny like a brass instrument." He blew a soft note on the flute, then returned to his desk and put it away. The band director went on to show the captivated students more examples of woodwind instruments. The clarinet, oboe, alto saxophone, and bassoon all amazed Jehan, but he still liked the flute best.

Next were the brass instruments. Jehan had his eyes riveted to the front of the classroom, taking in the wonders of the trumpet, trombone, French horn, baritone, and tuba.

All too soon, or so it seemed to Jehan, Valjean was telling them to pack up. "And so, tomorrow and the rest of the week, we will be trying out each instruments on each of you! By the end of next week, everyone should have theirs and we will be able to start playing!" Almost as if on cue, the bell rung and everyone sprang from their seats and bid a hasty 'goodbye' to their band director.

As he waited for Courfeyrac to make his way over, he noticed the blonde girl who was partnered with Marius run over to Mr. Valjean.

"Hey, Papa," she grinned. Valjean nodded at her and smiled. "Cosette! Here's your schedule," he handed her a slip of paper, "Now run along to lunch, though I doubt they have lunch tardies." Cosette, as it seemed the blonde was called, nodded and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you!"

Courfeyrac reached Jehan and they both walked out the door and into the bustling hallway, speed-walking in order to get a seat at a table. Jehan almost rammed into an eith-grader (or at least, a really tall person) as his head spun with new thoughts. _Wait, wait. Cosette is Mr. Valjean's daughter? What's up with the schedule thing? And we get to start playing next week maybe?! Where am I going to sit at lunch?!_


End file.
